


Don't Forget a Souvenir

by benignmilitancy



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Sonic World Adventure | Sonic Unleashed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 10:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17384861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benignmilitancy/pseuds/benignmilitancy
Summary: While traveling the world, Sonic accidentally forgets an important bag on another continent. Some things are just bound to slip your mind, right? Professor Pickle might be willing to wait, but Amy isn't so pleased. One-shot.





	Don't Forget a Souvenir

_Don't Forget a Souvenir_

Rarely did Shamar experience fierce winds this time of year. Even more seldom did the gales whip heavy carpets from their stands as though they were flags.

"Sonic!" Amy knew she must have looked like a total loon jumping around and waving her arms in the middle of the town square. It didn't help that she shouted into a deaf wind. The blue gust flew past her, drawing murmurs from the crowd as it raised plumes of dust from the street. "Sonic, this way!" Another gust rattled a row of vases holding date palms, much to their vendor's steaming ire as one of them fell outright and cracked on the sandstone. "No, over _here!"_

Professor Pickle stood amidst the chaos and squinted after the intense winds. "Oh, dear. He must be lost again."

She doubted it. He never ran this fast through inhabited towns unless Eggman was on his heels, and since she saw no Aero-Chasers blazing after him, figured he must have been going stir-crazy for some other reason. The rectangular pools on either side of the street foamed into tidal waves that splashed over the hapless crowd, and that was when Amy decided she'd had enough. Marching into his path, she thrust out her palm. "Hold it, mister!"

Red sneakers screeched to a smoking halt; the wind crystallized into Sonic, who stood before her with his eyes wide and his shoulders hiked up to his ears.

"What's got you running around like a chicken with your head cut off, huh?"

Before he could open his mouth, Chip shoved him aside, flitting panicked into her face. "He lost his bag! And it was _full_ of chocolate, too!"

"What?" Amy cried. "How could you _lose_ it? All of your money and passports were in there!"

Sonic dragged his hands over his flattened ears; that he knew too well. "Neither of you know if we left it back at the lab, right?"

Pickle mused by rubbing his chin. "I don't seem to recall, my boy. Although you did have that most interesting contraption delivered to the office the other day." That was to say, a stereo. She'd tried to show him how it worked to little avail. "Pity it can't play records."

That didn't alleviate his anxiety in the slightest. "Oh, man, could be _anywhere_ —" He whirled around, scrimped his eyelids shut and smacked his forehead repeatedly with his fist. "Aw, y'know what? We must've left it on the bench when we were getting tacos in Empire City!" _Nuclear tacos_ , Chip griped as he stuck out his tongue. "I don't really have a good excuse here, guys, but if I don't find it fast, we're gonna be in for a whole lotta trouble."

Amy froze, instantly picking up on just what he was tip-toeing around so he wouldn't alarm the Professor. Oh, no _, Sonic, how could you?_ Not just passports and money, those could easily be replaced, he had to lose the Emeralds along with them? How could he be so—so _reckless,_ leaving them on a random bench in the middle of a bustling city? Would he have left them behind for any old Joe to pilfer if she'd been there? No, but because _she_ didn't have the convenient power to unlock Gaia temple gates, she had to stay on the sidelines, and now he was freaking out.

Inhaling a deep lungful of arid air, Sonic squared his shoulders. "Okay, look, let's not go ape here. All I gotta do is retrace my steps. Even if somebody snapped it up, they'd have to chuck about twelve different kinds of tea first."

Amy lifted a brow. "I didn't know you liked tea?" This piqued the Professor's interest.

"Oh, indeed? Pray tell, what else might have they taken?"

She turned around. "Um, Professor? They probably threw out his souvenirs, too." Or sold them. Never knew when it came to the city.

"Drat," the old man said rather dourly. "Sonic, you must recover that bag. Do what you can to retrieve it, yes?"

She seized on the chance to tag along. Seeing the world wasn't just a hero's game, after all. "Maybe I can go with you this time?" she asked earnestly. "You know, since you drove Dark Gaia out of the city? Three heads might be better than two."

"No way." He shook his head. "Eggman's got his goons posted all over the place."

"But—"

"Just a little bit longer, okay?"

Not this _again._ What was he afraid of? She'd already seen his nightly transformation; now he was just plain shutting her out. "That's not fair! Why does Chip get to go and I don't?"

She could only watch, annoyed, as he broke out into a brisk jog, giving them a quick wave on the way out the city gates. "I'm real sorry, Amy, just this once? I _swear_ I'll make it up to ya."

"You better!" Giving his absence a firm _hmph_ for good measure, she turned and marched back toward the lab with the Professor in tow. Soon the square resumed its various goings-on, although at a slightly more stilted pace than before its peace had been broken.

A hearty call erupted from Musaid, a self-described 'tour guide,' who waved a purse over his head. "Is it true? Did someone lose their bag?" Puffing out his chest, he placed his fist stoutly over his heart. "Fear not, dear tourist! For I, Musaid, tour guide extraordinaire, have found what you have—" The dust storm Sonic flashed in his wake left the poor young man to cough and sputter, with only a faint yell of ' _Sorry'_ fading on the wind. And Dimah and Raniya, the local gossips between whom not a single rumor snuck past, snickered behind their hands.

* * *

At a choking ninety-seven degrees and with little humidity to soften its harshness, it was precisely the kind of day for staying inside. Amy sat on the leather sofa, leafing through a glossy-paged guidebook she'd bought from Musaid as a bit of an apology (even if it did get a little sandblasted from Mr. Leave 'Em in the Dust). She daydreamed she was relaxing on the shores of Adabat, while Pickle used the time to catch up on grading term papers.

The only sound in the room other than his wire-fan struggling against the heat was the Professor muttering to himself. He hummed approval at some papers and clucked his tongue at others—Raimondo's spelling was positively atrocious. Though she'd have to take him at his word; she'd tried looking at them once out of a curious impulse. Needless to say, she probably wasn't going to attend his classes anytime soon.

Amy closed the guidebook with a wistful sigh. After a while, even Adabat's beautiful sunsets failed to distract her. She hopped off the couch and picked up the carafe, offering to refill his empty porcelain cup. "More tea?"

"Why yes, thank you. Combing through these assignments always works up quite the parched throat." He paused as the last drop whirled steam from the emptied carafe. "Dear, you haven't even touched your cucumber sandwich. Is something the matter?"

Amy deigned a backwards glance toward the coffee table. The cucumber sandwiches they'd had for lunch sat wrapped in plastic, and the cooler at its side held even more sent by his students: mostly ones hoping for a bump in their grades. How one man could eat so many without getting sick of them was beyond her.

Despite the Professor's graciousness, she was bored. A girl could only do so much shopping, and she couldn't quite follow the locals as they basked in the heat, part of their Hallowmoon rituals which reversed their night and day routines. Right now there were people out on the baking hot streets, playing music and dancing as if it were the cool relaxed atmosphere of midnight.

She supposed if the tedium grew too intense, she could go for a swim in the pool at the luxury hotel next door, but what would be the point? She'd already done that yesterday. Without Sonic around, it just didn't feel the same.

And another, far more nagging issue pressed on her mind. "Professor," she began slowly, lowering the carafe. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Not to worry," he said between brief sips, "Raimondo knows the material well enough; he simply rushes through his assignments. Much like another speed demon we know, now that I think about it. We keep telling him not to begin them the night before they're due, but—"

"No, I mean Sonic. How long do you think he'll—"

"Ah, Sonic!" He nodded as he set down his teacup and crossed out another misspelling in red pen. "He seems to be growing quite accustomed to his nocturnal form, wouldn't you say?"

Amy shuffled a toe on the carpet. "That's what scares me."

"No need for fear. The Emeralds will restore him in due time, just as they're doing now to heal the planet."

He sounded so sure. Not that she didn't believe in Sonic, because he always got the job done when it came to saving the day, but she doubted the Emeralds would reciprocate the favor. More than that, he seemed a little subdued come nightfall. Not quite himself.

She knew he wanted to be rid of his werehog form as soon as possible, but even her insistence that he was the same deep down no matter his exterior didn't seem enough to convince him. Was it because she'd pushed him away the first time she saw him? Reacted out of fear and confusion?

"What if they don't?" She didn't want to consider it, but the possibility seemed very real. What if he had to be this way, night after night, for the rest of his life? She could hardly imagine it, Sonic giving up the two things he loved most, his speed and his freedom. The times he went quiet meant he was too proud to admit as much. "What if he doesn't ever turn back to normal? What if he stays like this forever?"

The red pen faltered in its scribbling. Slowly the old man raised his head, looked at her with an odd and lucid measure of calm. "Suppose he does?" he asked. "Would you be willing to accept that outcome?"

Amy bit the soft inner pocket of her cheek. She hadn't considered that. Her silence gave way to the fan's low buzz, where he resumed reviewing papers. "Even if it must come to that," he went on, "it won't change who he is on the inside."

"But you said it yourself: Dark Gaia brings out the worst in people."

"Dark Gaia's influence is powerful enough to conjure our darker impulses, true. But what few realize is that it amplifies what already dwells within the heart, even if those emotions only live there on the subconscious level. Sonic has not been possessed, and I have little reason to believe he ever will."

"Why?"

"Because it cannot reflect what isn't there," he said. "Fascinating stuff, really. In many cultures, the night is considered something to fear as it evokes our baser natures. In Shamar they hold no such belief. Here the night represents what guards and shelters us from evil forces. When Dark Gaia escaped the planet's core, it unlocked the darkness in many hearts. What it seemed to unlock within Sonic was his innermost desire to protect them regardless of that dark nature."

Pausing from his workload, he fished in his side drawer for a small compact mirror and gently placed it in Amy's palm. On the abalone case, she traced a delicate carving of the moon.

"This Hallowmoon, the people will celebrate the moon by shining mirrors like these at the sky. No matter how it changes, it always returns to reflect the sun's light." He smiled. "But I'm rambling now."

* * *

_"Knock, knock!"_ a gravelly voice thundered through the door. Amy jolted from her nap with a taut shriek that also frightened the Professor, who'd been reading from his recliner in the corner. He spasmed awake, dropped his half-drunk tea and immediately regretted the loss.

Heart pounding in her chest, Amy threw off the light duvet the Professor had draped over her. She'd wanted to stay up later than she had, intending to meet them when they returned, but her sagging eyelids had won out. First he leaves her behind, now he scares them out of a good night's sleep? Well, she was gonna give him a piece of her mind. "What time is it?"

"Er," said the Professor, checking his watch as he sopped the carpet with a handkerchief. "Nearly two, it seems."

She huffed. "Figures!" Storming across the lab, she threw the door to find Sonic and Chip a little ragged but smiling, bathed in moonlight. The Shamaran moon, full like a radiant opal, glowed in the shallow ponds behind them.

She rammed her heel against the front step. "Don't _do_ that! I thought you were a—" She bit off the thoughtless word before it could escape her lips: monster.

She sagged a little, rubbing her eye with the back of her hand. Was she really going to call him that? Especially when he'd been working so hard to fix the planet?

Shoulders hunched nearly to his ears again, Sonic relaxed as he realized the diatribe wasn't coming after all. "Heh." He offered her an apologetic smirk, this version a tad shyer than his confident daytime grin. At this hour his flat teeth curved into long, glistening fangs. He was careful not to show them, and despite her thumping heart, she found his discretion rather sweet. But he shouldn't have felt the need to. "Sorry there. Didn't mean to scare ya." He tilted his shaggy head. "Were you two sleeping?"

Call it Dark Gaia, call it simply missing him. She sniffed once, stubbornly, before sacking him in a tight bear hug.

"Whoa there, you're crushin' my organs." Triumphantly he held up a canvas bag so full it looked about ready to burst at the seams. "Guess what we found?"

Professor Pickle joined them in the doorway, arms tucked behind his back. "Ah, Sonic, Chip, welcome back. Your travels went well, I presume?"

Sonic smacked a fist into his massive palm as he sauntered inside. Chip mimicked him, though to far less intimidating effect. "Had to put the hurt on a couple of Egghead's tin cans tryin' to scare folks off, but yeah. It's all here, safe and sound." The remaining coal-black Emeralds tumbled out of the sack onto the coffee table, prompting them to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Then he dumped the other contents for them to marvel at: charms and wards, figurines of wood and glass, jewels and toys from ages gone by.

It surprised Amy to find he hadn't been lying about the tea, either. He'd amassed an impressive collection, from Chun-nan's darjeeling to Apotos' bitter blue tea. As Chip and the Professor argued over whether the carved animal figurine from Mazuri was a zebra or an ibanga—" _What do you mean it's not an ibanga? What else could it be? My word!"_ —she sniffed a violet jar filled with dried herbs. The most wonderful lavender scent filled her nostrils, divinely fragrant.

"You should save some of these for Cream."

Sonic popped the oolong lid and wrinkled his nose as he took a whiff. "Might wanna hold off on that. Some of it's gone a little ripe." With a mischievous chuckle, he held a thin masquerade mask over his face. "Hey, Ames, check it out: I'm the werehog of the opera," until the Professor interrupted, plucking it from his grasp.

"I say, don't play with that! This is a mask Spagonian nobility once donned as they cavorted the night away." He held it up to the light with bunched brows, appraising the gold trim on its lacquered emerald surface. "My goodness, would you just look at this ornamentation? Such remarkable craftsmanship! Quite rare, _quite_ delicate."

"Hate to burst your bubble, Prof, but the guy who sold it said it's a repro. Museum holds the real ones." Sonic produced a second mask and winked at him through the slitted eyeholes. "They wear these out dancing, huh?"

"Oh…" Pickle scratched the back of his head. "Well, perhaps these days they do."

Sonic shook his head as he filed it away anyhow. Old man got so worked up over his souvenirs, was kinda cute. Which reminded him—

"Wait, almost forgot! I got you something, too."

Amy blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah. Close your eyes." Chip piped in: "And we hunted up and down the city for it, so no peeking!"

She obeyed, holding out her hands expectantly. If she'd been given three guesses as to the object he'd drop in her palms, the least of them would have been a small silver rose pin.

The fact that he'd gotten her something at all was more than enough to melt her misgivings; that he'd searched the city for something so small and delicate an even greater testament that he'd remained, irrevocably, the same Sonic she knew and cherished. "For me?" She brightened as she looked up at him, clutching the tiny brooch to her chest. "You shouldn't have—"

"You like it?"

"I love it! I'm never gonna take it off!"

Sonic smiled. "All's well that ends well, huh? You're not the only one. Chip's just glad to have his chocolate bars back," he said, "right, Chip?" Amy couldn't help but giggle as he had to snatch the little guy up by the tail, away from binging himself into a stomachache. "Hey, don't scarf it all down at once, buddy…"


End file.
